


Date Night

by indoorotaku



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-05-10 02:48:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14728532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indoorotaku/pseuds/indoorotaku
Summary: You've been going through a lot recently and your date is the least of your worries. BendyXReaderIs also on fanfiction.netYou'll probably notice my Xreader style of writing is a little different than most.





	1. The Chase

Pit-pat, pit-pat. That's the sound rain makes when it falls on to your hair. You don't even notice. You're busily cutting through bushes and thickets of trees. You need to get away. A thorn bush makes itself a new home in the side of your leg. You forget yourself in yell in pain. You hear him shout out after you followed by a gunshot. You're so alert because of the situation right now that you could swear you hear the splintering of the tree as the bullet lodges itself into the bark. You don't take a moment to breathe and collect yourself. You keep running and you lose yourself in the pit-pat of your heartbeat rather than the rain. 

You feel like you've been running for hours when the rain starts to get worse. In fact, you've probably only been running a good 20 minutes. Long enough for a change of scenery. At the edge of the woods is what looks like the dilapidated street of a town. You hope against hope for only a moment. Your dreams are dashed by the dilapidated roads and darkened windows of the town. That's when you spot it. A thin brick building built between an old shop and an apartment building. It's just thin enough that you're sure it must've been built in an alleyway. You can see a faint yellow light peering through beneath the old wooden doorway. Grass becomes pavement as you slam your feet into the ground as you make your way to that building. You were hoping for anything at that point. You were hoping for a phone, or a place to hide, just something. 

The door slammed behind you before you had any chance to shut it yourself. You considered yourself lucky when you didn't hear his voice after that particular noise. You hadn't even stopped to think about why the door seemed to be able to lock itself. All you knew to do was have your back pressed to it as you slid down to the wooden floor and bury your hands into your arms. The state you're in speaks volumes to your current situation. You are bleeding from the thorn attack and your clothes are in tatters. Your hair is a mess and all you can do is scream into your hands. You don't even notice when a gloved digit pokes your shoulder. 

"Awfully rude not to introduce yourself when you make an acquaintance toots"

There's a very fake Brooklyn accent. You laugh without meaning too. You briefly wonder if you've gone insane before you look up. Look at you, laughing at a person you just met.   
As you raise your head, you consider again the idea you might be crazy. Some type of...creature? It was impish in its appearance. All of it was black except for its gloves and a grinning cartoon face. It..he..leaned forward to get a good look at you. 

"Human huh. Ain't seen many of those since the big cheese left. Of course, I expect you ain't the Henry I been waiting for all day. You're uh, little too endowed to be him doll face." 

The creature looked away as if searching the room for something with his eyes. You noticed an impish tail as he walked over to a dusty old jacket. It was a rusty brown color with spectacles still in the pocket. The chair he'd lifted it from was covered in cobwebs and you expected no less from the jacket. Still, it looked much warmer than you felt. The creature dragged the jacket over to you. All the while he didn't bother looking you in the eyes. 

"Hurry and put that on would you? A woman all soaked through like that can't be all proper-like. Yeah?"

You just nodded after realizing why he'd been averting his eyes. 

"Got a name sweetheart?"

He asked after you covered yourself. You were right. The jacket was warm on you. Full of cobwebs, but warm. You muttered it quickly under your breath. He stroked his chin and nodded in approval. 

"The names Bendy myself. Bendy the devil dancin' darlin at your service."

The thing...Bendy...said before giving a small bow. He walked back over to the chair and dusted some of it off. He offered it to you but you shook your head and he plopped down on it in your stead. 

"In a getup like that, I'm guessing you was having some boyfriend troubles? The cad probably don't know how to treat a lady. Am I right?"

Bendy doesn't wait for an answer as he just stares up at the ceiling. 

You decide to tell him about what lead up to your meeting. You tell him about the date gone wrong. You tell him about the gunshot. You tell him about how you got your bloody leg. You tell him why you are hiding in his home. Then, you ask him. You ask him what he is. You ask him if he's real. You ask him if he's some kind of monster. You ask if he's just some guy in a costume. You ask just as much about this fellow Bendy as you've told him about yourself. Finally, he tells you to calm down. You realize you've talked so fast that you're not even sure he could make sense of the blur of words you were throwing at him. 

"That's spooksville alright dollface. You can hide here as long as you need. At least until my pal Henry comes a knocking, you'll have to be on your way before then. At the rate he's going though, I'll be dried ink!"

Bendy howls in laughter at a joke only he seems to be in on. In that moment he seems maniacal. You don't notice. You are warm and your host has been nothing but a perfect gentleman. Well, gentle creature? 

"Ink?"

You ask him. He leans further back in his chair and just nods. He tells you the long story of how he was made. It's a truly in-explainable story full of crazy artists and desperate ploys at fame. He didn't much like his story. He mentioned he'd rather forget it and move on. But there was something he had to do first. You assume he means about Henry, but say nothing. It's a personal matter for him and you two are practically strangers.

"Sorry I ain't got no rooms to offer you up for the night. The place ought to be quarantined what with all the stuff dirtying it up. There ain't any bedrooms or bathrooms either. Do you believe that? Who builds a studio and doesn't add the essentials?"

Bendy's odd voice is starting to become relaxing. Despite the odd situation you are in, you feel very safe. If he were to show up, then you had no doubt Bendy's appearance would stall him long enough for you two to make a quick break for it. 

"By the by dollface, who even is after a sweet thing like you anyway?"

Bendy asks. You shake your head but you tell him anyway. 

"Joey Drew."


	2. The Imposter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens!

Bendy is silent too long for the warm comfort to remain a convenience to you. He hasn’t said anything since that name passed your lips. 

“Do you know him?”?

You ask Bendy. Bendy nods slowly. He turns away from you. You can only see the corner of his grin. You think for a moment you see something melting over his teeth, but after a second it is simply gone. You think maybe it was your mind playing tricks on you. It had been a long night. 

“Yeah I know the traitor. But that mutt ought to be nearly 60 years to the grave by now. He’s a bit old for a sweet young thing like you. Ain’t he? “

Bendy asked as his tail stilled.

“60’s? No. He and I are both in our early 20s as far as I know. “

You explained to the demon. He jumped cartoonishly and turned his head around slowly. His body still faced forward. 

“No doll, Joey’s in his 60s. Cross my heart and all that. Here’s the thing about it though. You sure your, uhm, gentleman caller, was the real deal? Joey Drew I mean?”

You nod quickly as Bendy’s body turns to face you as well. It would’ve been cute if it weren’t for what sounded like the pop of bones cracking back into place. 

“It’s possible he could’ve gotten the name from an old newspaper or something. I wouldn’t be surprised.”

You tell your companion. The being shakes his head as his tail swings from side to side. 

“How do you know Joey?”

You ask him. Bendy reminds you of his origin. He tells you the horrors committed by the real Joey Drew. 

“It doesn’t seem like all that much of some kind of coincidence that some nutter using Joey’s name would waltz on over to this part of town. The real question is why bring a dame like you with him and then chase her off before getting down to the studio himself?”

Bendy’s tail swung quickly now as he rubbed his chin in thought with one of his oversized gloves. It was then Bendy’s turn to slide down the door next to you as he spoke next.

“No offense toots. I’m sure you’re a great dame. A real catch. But, uh, what's so special about you dollface? What got his gears grinding over you?”

You blush at the complement and the innuendo.You think for a moment. You rub your chin too. You snap your fingers when something clicks. 

“Well, he said I had a voice like an angel during our date. It didn’t mean much to me then, but after hearing about Suzie, maybe it has something to do with that?”

You ask the little devil. For his part, Bendy nods his head up and down while listening to you. However, now he seems frustrated. Without thinking, you reach over and pet one of his crescent ears. He purrs like a cat and you stop. Both of you blush but neither of you mention it. 

“So, it’s probably some guy that wants me t do the voice for Alice? Then this place is probably where he planned on driving us before I jumped out of his car. But, that doesn’t explain why he would lie about being this Joey guy. Why isn’t he here yet either? He should’ve been here by now. He was right behind me! Bendy, I’m scared.”

You admit it to him. Bendy places a gloved hand on your shoulder and shakes his head. 

“We’ll figure this out toots. The both of us. Until then, you’re as safe as can be with lil’ old me while you’re in the studio. I won’t let Joey get you doll. You just your your pretty little head about staying safe and staying warm while you’re here. Get it”

Bendy shrugs and reaches an arm around the back of your neck. The same one that was on your shoulder a minute ago is now placed on your other shoulder. You feel so tired and warm, and safe. You don’t realize ink is staining the nape of your neck as you drift off to sleep.


	3. The Sun

BATIM is still owned by the Meatly. Mickey is owned by Disney.

 

You woke up to Bendy’s glove in your mouth. Bendy himself was snoring next to you and you placed his hand back in his lap. You wipe some drool from your lips. It was common for you to nibble on dolls as you slept while you were a child. It was possibly Bendy’s cartoonish figure had reminded you of your childhood toys. Something about him just made you feel safe. It was probably his similarity to your old Mickey doll. If you remember correctly, that is the one you used to nibble on. You push the thought to the back of your mind as Bendy awakes. 

“Top of the morning to you toots.”

Bendy groggily lifted himself from the floor and readjusted his tie. You got up just as Bendy opened the door to the studio. The light of da poured in from the outside. No sign of ‘Joey’, if that was his real name, was anywhere to be found. You considered leaving but there would be no one to help. Nobody knew where you were and you were miles away from a house phone. Bendy’s look of concern matched yours. 

“Never seen any payphones on these streets. Then again I only venture out at night. The sun dries me out lickety-split. You know, I like to peek out at it in the morning anyway. The warmth on my ink reminds me I’m alive.”

He admitted to you.

“You can go on your own now if you want. There’s a town near here Sammy used to mention a bunch until a couple of years ago. He, well, he ain’t been right in the head for a while. A course, I can get you there safe if you want to wait it out here in the studio for a while longer. Really, it’s up yo you doll face. It was nice having a warm body to keep me company last night.”

Bendy seemed to ramble on. You stop him by placing a hand atop his head. The ink of his body felt more like tendrils of fur. The only proof as to otherwise were the black stains left on your finger-tips.

“When it’s darker is safer if there’s two of us. If something happens, you could run and get help.”

You tell him while your fingers are making an acquaintance with the top of his head. Bendy’s only response is to purr like he did the night before. 

“Mmm...real nice…”

He groans under his breath. You realize the effect you’re having and stop. He quickly asks why you’d stop but it immediately dawns on him.

“Heh, sorry. It’s just been a really long time since anybody touched me lately.”

He tells you. You apologize and explain how he just reminds you so much of a cat. Bendy laughs and puts both his arms behind his head. He says on his off-days, you might think a little different. You disagree and he smirks as he laughs. He tells you he needs to get a map from Sammy. He tells you to stay on this floor. The rest of the studio isn’t safe and he worries the floorboards could crumple beneath your heavy human feet. 

It’s a fair point and you don’t want to meet this Sammy person. Bendy said he was unwell and you had gone through enough insanity last night to last you. You watch as Bendy disappears behind the corner of a hallway and you hear the distant sound of creaking steps in descent. Soon enough, silence is your only companion in the studio.


	4. The Attack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beware! The reason for that graphic violence tag may be seen from here on out in the story.

The Meatly still owns BATIM. I just make fanworks for it. Friendly reminder. This is also a horror story. You’ve been warned. 

 

The studio had been quiet maybe around 15 minutes or so when you heard what sounded like a bucket fall over. The metallic sound startled you and you had looked in that direction. You were filled with instant regret. Ink was pooling around the fallen bucket. That on it’s own wouldn’t have frightened you. What did was the hand reaching out of the goop. You watch in horror as another hand emerges. Arms follow the hands the silhouette of a body pulls itself from the gunk on the floor. 

The sudden event startles you so much that running isn’t even a thought. Breathing isn’t even a thought. It’s only when that...thing..starts crawling to you with all the speed of a a sprint that you find your footing to the front door. The door is locked from the outside and you hear a familiar laugh as you cry out for help. 

“Help you angel? After you went and ran away from me last night? I thought you went over to the next town to get help. I can't believe my luck you’re right where I want you baby. You just be a good girl and let Susie do her thing. Don’t worry, she’ll take real good care of you. Okay? I’ll be back real soon to pick up my darling angel. Just hang tight until then sweet pea.”

The fake Joey’s muffled voice speaks through the door. You hear a deep growl from behind you. The door unlocks. It swings open without so much as a nudge and your body falls with a thud atop the Joey imposter. His clothes are covered in ink stains: His pants had an especially dubious ink stain themselves. 

You turned your head around in time to see Bendy standing next to a hulking beast of a man covered in ink charging right at you. You could not see the man’s face. Just his lips and overalls. He grasped a broken cardboard cutout of Bendy in on of his hands. Unlike the inky creature from before, this man’s ink seems to drip from his skin and reveal human flesh beneath it. He kept scooping up the gobs of ink on his body and rubbing the congealed liquid all over the visible bits of skin. That’s probably what Bendy meant about being unwell. It was an educated guess, but you assumed the man charging at you must be Sammy. 

The tall ink of a man grabbed you off of the imposter just as soon as he reached the two of you and threw you into Bendy’s arms. He proceeded to lunge in to the imposter’s neck with his jaws and made use of his long nails by lodging them deep into the imposter’s shoulders and pulling down until matching bloody gashes made up the top of his arms. All the while, he was shouting over and over again:

“You lied to us! You lied to us!”  
You didn’t know what to do. You looked away while the imposter was mauled on. Sammy left him barely alive and bleeding on the doorstep of the studio. As a final insult, Sammy stomped on to the imposter’s right arm. You heard the bone shattering over the scream of pain. Bend held you as you cried while all this happened. You heard another sickening crunch and a sigh of satisfaction as you realize Sammy had made sure to break the fake Joey’s other arm as well in the same garrish manner. 

Finally, as the imposter passed out cold on the ground, Sammy slowly turned around and approached you. His walk was slower and much more methodical. If you could see a face, you’d immagine a look of intense hate. He reached towards you just as he was mere inches away from you and you screamed; thinking he was going to attack you next. Instead, his arm extended further behind you. Sammy grabs the inky being behind you. The one that had frightened you earlier. 

“How dare you disturb the acquaintance of my lord and master as he is away. You do not deserve the gift and protection that is his glorious ink. I will pray for your salvation in death, for in life, I, the righteous follower, shall not be so merciful to you for this blasphemy against he who protects us.”

That’s all Sammy said before ripping the thing’s head from its body and rubbing the inkling corpse over his own fleshy skin until nothing was left but a memory of the disturbing event. Sammy stands tall and greets you with a civil introduction after that. He calls himself a musician and apologizes for the mess he made outside. He holds out a hand to shake. You don’t take it. Sammy looks distraught, but only for a moment. He runs over to a work-bench and then punches holes in to the side of the face of the broken Bendy cutout he is holding. He threads a string through it and dawns it on his face like a mask.

“There now. I’m sure this face must be much more appealing to you my lady. It is far less fearsome, is it not?”

Sammy asks you. The ink from his head is dripping onto the mask and it is actually far more frightening to you than when he wasn’t wearing the face of your only friend in this strange place. But, it seemed like he was trying his best to make you unfearful of him. How bad could he be? You looked over to Bendy and the demon just shrugged. He kept looking out over to the sleeping imposter on the studio steps outside. You shake Sammy’s hand before Bendy speaks up.

“He looks just like Joey Drew.”

That’s all Bendy says about the horror-show laying outside on the ground.  
“That wasn’t Joey?”

Sammy asks as he whips his head over to the imposter. 

“No. That’s what I was trying to tell you downstairs. There’s an imposter. I figured they’d look similar, but this sorry s.o.b is a dead ringer”

Bendy’s surprise was swiftly met with Sammys. Even you were somewhat surprised about the revelation.

“Well, What now?”

Bendy asks as he turns to you.


	5. The Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is kind of short.

A:N I don’t own BATIM. The Meatly does. If you’d like to see something happen later in the story. Leave a comment and it might make its way in!

 

“What happens now is we get answers my lord. My lady, surely this imposter wanted something of you?”

Sammy’s tone is patient. He seems worried about you. You tell him about how the fake Joey kept calling you his angel. Bendy tells him it probably has to do with Susie. You know of her from Bendy’s stories.

“So, this imposter was probably trying to turn her into a new Alice or something? By bringing her to the studio? She don’t even look like Alice. Does she?”

Nobody bothered answering Bendy’s question. Nobody had an answer. Well, almost nobody.

“Just go ask Alice.”

The voice is raspy as it aches out behind the trio. The imposter sits up from a pool of his own drying blood. This task is incredibly difficult for him considering his arms being quite broken out of place. 

“That damned Alice is why we’re all here. My full name is Joseph Drew the third. My father is Joseph Drew the second, and the guy you think I am is my dead grandpa. My friends call me Joey so that’s how I introduce myself. As for me, I’ve been getting letters from this woman claiming to be Alice Angel coming from this address. At first I thought she was crazy. But, then she sent me what looked like some funky old polaroid of a selfie. She just wanted some company. The girl seemed so well behaved. The perfect little sister for an angel. My job was only to get her to Alice. But, uh, last night. Alice and I, err, we were busy. Anyway, now here we all are.”

This Joey continue on with his story from there. But you didn't manage to catch the rest of it. A large gloved covered your mouth while it’s wolfish owner silently creeped away with your struggling form in its grasp. Sammy and Bendy were too engrossed with Joey’s side of events to even notice you were being kidnapped.


	6. The Angel

A/N: The Meatly owns BATIM. Sorry the last chapter was so short. 

 

You found yourself strapped to a very uncomfortably cold metal table. The wolf-being, Boris by the look of the posters, had made quick work of fastening your wriggling body to it. Sound filled the room. A melodic voice filled the air. Honestly, it was so sweet that it was cringeworthy. 

“Dear sweet little angel. My how far you’ve fallen in to the devil’s den. Good girls shouldn’t wander in to bad places like this my dear.”

The voice chided you like it was your mother or something. You weren’t scared, but you were annoyed. Whomever owned this sickly sweet voice was probably the reason your date night had gone to hell. This woman had orchestrated what had lead to this whole event. 

“I meant to greet you when you got here sweat pea. Really I did. I’m so sorry you had to rub elbows with that filthy demon and his little henchman. But, you see. You got here too early, and I didn’t have time to put on my face. I just want my new little sister to see me at my best. Ooh, but Mr. Drew looks so much like Joey. I just had to give him a reward for bringing you to me early. I’m so sorry we took so long. I planned on going to get you from the foyer much earlier than this. But with Sammy and Bendy there, I couldn’t go get you myself.”

The voice glided through the air in a way that seemed as if it was filled with false nicety. You ask her to go ahead and come out of hiding since you’re there now. Laughter fills the room. She tells you she’s still trying to fix herself up. You tell her you don’t mind waiting; that you weren’t going anywhere. It’s not like you could’ve anyway. Boris had made sure you were very securely attached to the metal contraption you were on. Though, you didn’t have long to wait.

Boris isn’t doing much himself. At some point, he went off to the side of the room and had started peeling open a can of bacon soup. Now he was just minding his own business as he buried his face into the can. You weren’t sure if he was eating it or not. He did seem pretty focused on it though. You briefly wonder if he would help you out of the contraption if you ask politely. You ask him. He gives you no response. The laughter returns, but it does not fill the room.

A woman unlike anything you had seen before walked into the room with the contraption. She was a woman of average height with a pension for black. Her hair was a messy tangle of long black tendrils. Her dress was a simple black dress. Her shoes were simple black flats. These parts of her didn’t bother you. It was the other parts of her appearance that made you want to turn away. Her demonic golden eye pierced at you while half of her face stretched over itself as if wrinkles became bark. On that horrifying side of her face, a black socket makes its home while skin barely covers the visage of her teeth. Long white horns protruded from either side of her forehead. 

You briefly think back to the story of Hel. In Norse mythology, she was the goddess of the underworld. Hel was purported to have an unusual appearance. One half of her was that of a beautiful woman, while the other half was that of a decaying corpse. You blinked. You remember earlier when it was discussed if you looked like Alice. This was probably Alice. You weren’t sure you looked like this monstrosity. This woman had far more in common with Hel than she did you.

“I know. It’s a frightful enough affliction to look at? Right sweety? But don’t worry, soon enough I’ll be beautiful and you’ll have your big sis Alice to be proud of every time she takes the stage.”

The voice still has that fake nieceity. This time it sounds like it has desperation. Alice was probably nervous over her appearance. It seemed to matter quite a bit to her what you think. You ask to be let off of the table. The woman smiles. You can see some black sludge drip from her exposed teeth and land on to her bottom lip. 

“It’s unfortunate that I can’t my sweet angel. You’ve no doubt noticed my flaws. They’re horrible. Aren’t they? I could never leave the studio looking like this; even at night. What would people think? It was so hard just to send Joey that picture. Mr. Drew is so nice. Unfortunately, most men aren’t so open minded. They won’t look twice at me. Oh. I’ve tried cosmetics, but Boris can only do so much for me.”

Your annoyance was dissipating. Confusion and mild fear were replacing it quickly. What did Boris have to do with cosmetics? What did she want with you? You asked her that. She laughed and told you. She said that ever since she found out about you from Joey, that she knew you had to be her sister. That you were so nice you wouldn’t mind sharing flesh and blood. That’s when it hit you what she wanted. She wanted your flesh as her own. She wanted your blood for herself. That’s why she kept calling you her sister. That’s why Joey kept calling you his angel.

She laughed as you started thrashing around in your confines. There was nothing you could do. She just laughs again as she places a quick kiss on your cheek. She takes a long bony finger and dips it into the lipstick stain, smudging a series of markings on to you. You realize with horror that it’s not just lipstick. Angel has used some of the black ink from her mouth as well. She tells you they are the cutting lines. She sweetly assures you that you won’t die. That blood and skin can be replenished. It would simply just be a long process. That until you could do this without feeling pain, the restraints would be necessary. You screamed. 

You screamed for Bendy. You screamed for Sammy. You even screamed for Boris to come help you. You screamed for help until you couldn’t scream anymore. Boris didn’t move from his spot. You were alone against this woman. Still, as she was about to leave, she ordered Boris to keep his eyes on you. She needed to go get her beauty kit. Boris set down his can and kept his attention on you.


	7. The Kit

A/N: The Meatly owns BATIM. 

 

You aren’t surprised when Alice comes back only a while later. A feminine black purse is clutched between the fingers of her left hand. She has Boris come over to you and loosen one of your straps. You try to reason with her. You try to explain to her that what she wants isn’t how that kind of thing works. She ignores you. You scream for help again. Still, nobody comes. Alice threatens to sow your mouth shut if you don’t cease the racket. For a moment, you give in to the silence she’s asked for.

Alice’s bag is full of unusual tools. It couldn’t really be called a makeup kit by human standards. The kit had a spoon, some sewing materials, a nail clipper, a box cutter, and what looked like ripped strips of her black dress. You look down and do indeed see she’s torn away part of her dress. 

“I need some form of bandage for you to heal up with after this sweet pea.”

It’s the only answer you get to the question you didn’t ask. Her sweet smile makes you a little sick at this point. She was wearing her lie on her face. Some angel she was alright. Alice hummed an old melody unfamiliar to you while she bent down to gingerly lay each of her items on to the floor. She did her best to put them each into the corner of an invisible square. There didn’t seem to be any reason behind it. Alice tells you that she just enjoys having them so uniform without just keeping them in a boring line. 

Alice picks up the nail clippers before standing back on her two feet. She’s maybe only a few inches from you when she starts clipping your nails. You scratch at her with your nails to the point where she starts oozing black ink from the back of her palm. Not blood. Ink. Alice doesn’t even scream. She’s so focused on collecting your nails. Soon enough, she has all of them stuffed into one of her inky palms. She throws them into her makeup kit. 

“In case I need them.”

Alice seems to be saying it more to herself than she is saying it to you. No. You doubt you’ve ceased being anything to her in this moment other than a means to an end. Alice did not put away the clippers along with the cut nails. Her one good eye caught both of yours. Her golden gaze burned into your cheek. With all the practiced ease of a surgeon, she struck towards you with her fist. You close your eyes and wait for a blow. Nothing comes but the feeling of a pinch. It was similar to that feeling you get when you are squeezing a zit between two fingers. You open your eyes. You can see the rusty metal of the clipper just beneath the bottom of your left eye. Angel is still hard at work with her intense glare. You feel as if something tears on your face as a spot of blood trickles just barely down your cheek. It probably only made it an inch or so. It was very painful, but it was not a lasting pain. That is, until Angel repeated the process. Over and over again, Alice Angel dug into the skin of your cheek with her nail clippers. You realize in abject horror that she is tracing over the markings she left on your face earlier. Of course, you were by no means silent during this process. Your voice was very horse by now, but still you cried for help. Unlike earlier, it was much weaker now. You weren’t sure your voice wouldn’t give out sooner rather than later. It was, however, your only means of fighting back. Frankly, you weren’t going to let this process be an easy one for Alice.

She finishes up with your face and tells Boris to silence you as she wipes the blood from the clippers on to her torn dress. She tells you it’s a slow process to do this because she’s doing her best to make sure you don’t die. She doesn’t want to kill her new sister. Somewhere in Alice’s twisted mind, you were sure she actually believed that. 

Alice bent down to pick up the spoon. You raised an eyebrow. She explained how she spent days keeping the spoon in the coldest room of the studio. She wanted to make sure it was cold to the touch. She presses it against your unblemished cheek to prove just how ice cold it really is. The smooth metal felt good and cold on your face. The feeling quieted you. For just a split second, you just wanted a break from screaming and to enjoy the cool metal on your cheek.

The spoon glided over to just beneath your eye. You felt Alice’s free hand stretching out your eyelids so that you could not blink. She warned you what she was about to do would be quite painful. You tried to scream, but your voice was dead. You could feel it as the edge of the spoon wedged just barely beneath your eye. It hurt. It was blurry. You were happy you couldn’t really see what was going on out of that eye. Alice seemed to be playing with the edge, moving it from side to side. She explained she needed to be careful and that she was practicing with the tool. She told you now she could really get to work. You felt her push the spoon further beneath your eye. 

“ALICE!”

Huh. You could’ve sworn that was Bendy’s voice just then. But, it couldn’t of been. You’d been screaming a long time and he never came. You opened your good eye just in time to see Alice get thrown to the ground by Sanny. His fingers raked through her skin leaving a trail of ink as he immobilized her. 

Bendy did nothing but gasp when he saw you. He walked over and started undoing the bottom strap of the contraption you were stuck to. When your hands were free, you undid the top one he couldn’t reach. It was difficult to do because your vision was very blurry in one eye. You fell to the ground with an unceremonious thud. Bendy just growled and reached out to your eye. You backed away, but he told you it would be alright. He calmly approached your face with one of his gloved hands and withdrew the spoon still lodged beneath your eye. 

“You look like hell dollface.”

It’s all he could manage to say in the situation. You just nodded in agreement. Alice Angel, meanwhile, was throwing a fit. She was shouting to Bendy about always being so loved. How he was stealing her sister from her. It was essentially the ramblings of a mad woman. Sammy held her down and asked you and Bendy to leave. That there was something he wanted to discuss with Angel in private. You shook your head. You were scared of what Sammy could do. That woman was vile but you had seen first hand how brutal Sammy could be. You weren’t sure anyone deserved that kind of thing. 

Bendy told Sammy he’d talk to Alice himself. This appeased Sammy and he offers to walk you back upstairs since you are still having trouble seeing out of your eye. You quickly agree. You can hear what sounds like amiable talking coming from Bendy and the spewing of maddened words coming from Angel dying down as you march further away from that awful room.


End file.
